On Friday night I set my alarm for early. 5:15 a.m. to be exact. My clock is about 20 minutes fast. I do that on purpose because if I set it for the time I need to leave then I have exactly 20 minutes to get up and get ready. Or 10 minutes to snooze and 10 minutes to get ready.
I was planning on meeting my running group at 5:30. We meet in the next town over. It takes me about 10 minutes to drive there. So, I usually plan to leave at 5:15, give or take 5 minutes. The group was planning to do another long run.
One of my friends in the group owns a tiny little store, that is just about 20 miles (give or take) south of us. The plan on the long run days is to run from our meeting place to there on Saturdays. If we run back roads/trails, the shortest distance is 17 miles. We ran that distance the Saturday before.
My plan, however, was to meet, then run a shorter distance (maybe 10-12 miles) so I could get back for my hair appointment that I had to cancel the prior week due to the long run taking longer, due to my out-of-shapedness.
So, my alarm went off at 5:15. Or at least I think it did. I'm pretty sure I turned it off (instead of hitting snooze) in my sleep. I woke up at 6:10 (on my clock...so about 5:40 real time). For a moment, the panic set in and I thought about jumping out of bed and speeding to meet the group. But, I knew it was already too late. So, then I considered getting up and going out to run alone. With that thought, I laid back down on the pillow, and was out before the thought was even completely processed. I hate running alone. I'd rather not run at all.
So, to make a short, completely irrelevant to this post story long, I didn't get up Saturday to run. That is not really significant, except that I had a little minor breakdown yesterday, and I'm sure it's because I didn't get my adrenalin fix for the weekend.
Ok, moving on. I had a hair appointment at 9:30 am. I had made plans to leave at 11:30 with Motherboard to head to our lunch. My regular hairstylist (who can color, cut and style my hair in just under 2 hours) was booked out for several weeks, so she referred me to another girl in her salon. She also gave the new girl my color card, that said what colors I used for my hair. So, I went in at 9:30. I explained, the same way I always do, that I wanted my hair color very, very deep dark brown...almost black, so that when it fades (which it always does after a couple of weeks) it will be the color I want. I also wanted a caramel weave. I specified that I want the caramel just on the crown, and very, very subtle so it looks natural. She then proceeded to color my hair, as I chatted away with the other stylist while she did another girl's hair about my CD, marathons, and the fact that she is moving to NM (boohoo). 1 hour later, my stylist finally put me in the hair dryer. I sat there for probably 30-40 minutes, during which time she came back several times saying it's not quite done yet. By the time I was rinsed, it was 11:30. It took her 2 hours just to color my hair. By then, Motherboard had called and said she would meet me there instead of riding together, which really sucks. So, in interest of time, I told the girl, to just trim my hair. I didn't even have time to consider any other kind of cut. I did tell her, though, that I wanted drastic layers.
By the time she cut, and blow dried my hair, it was already 12:00. I was already 30 minutes late. So, I really didn't even look in the mirror, paid the lady, and sped down the road to meet my girls for lunch.
I looked in the car mirror and discovered that not only are my "layers" only 1 inch shorter from the longest length, but I am now a freaking blond! No offense to the blonds of the world. I think you are beautiful. But my natural color is brown. I like being a brunette. I want to stay that way. The so-called "caramel" was full on blond, and not subtle at all, but in huge stripes through the top of my head. I don't like the chunky stripey look. I think it makes me look like an old lady trying to look like a teenager. So, I spent my drive to Salt Lake, whining to Motherboard on the phone about how I hate my hair.
But, as soon as I arrive at the Skybox in the Gateway, and met with these beautiful ladies, my worries melted away. As soon as I approached the table, Denae stood up and gave me a big hug. You would never have guessed that we were meeting for the first time at that moment. In fact, Denae kept saying how it felt like we were just picking up where we left off. It truly felt like we were just 4 old friends catching up.
Denae is exponentially funnier in person. If you snort liquids while reading her blog, imagine hearing her stories live, in person, complete with facial expression, and tone of voice. I'm pretty sure I had Cherry Pepsi (because the restaurant didn't have Coke) come out my nose on several occasions during the lunch.
It was great to hear Amber and Denae rip about their fun family parties, dysfunction, and the sisterly banter between them. I was slightly jealous, for a moment, that I wasn't their sister, too. Maybe they will adopt me.
And I did promise Motherboard that the flask would make an appearance. And I just couldn't resist, due to the fact the I was forced to gag down the sorry excuse for a cola (Pepsi), rather than drinking the nectar of the Gods (Coke). I had to add some grenadine to make it bearable.
When I first brought out the flask, I think Denae really started to think I really was a Drunk on the go. She asked me if I had Grandpa's cough syrup in there. I said, of course, only cherry flavored cough syrup would do. With that, she, of course, had to try some for herself.
I didn't even get arrested.
We sat there talking for 4 hours, and probably would've sat there longer, if my phone hadn't starting ringing, reminding me that I had a family party starting in 20 minutes at a family member's home that was 45 minutes away.
Here is the picture that Motherboard took before I had to dash home. It is also the only after-picture I have of my haircut.